Saturday, January 12, 2013

{my 1,400th post} Poem - g [c] l a s s e s

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classes, glasses, lessons and life
the torture of school, it's strain and it's gripe
even in a room where it's okay to rhyme
i can't help but feel out of place all the time
everyone here is either dark or light,
despite who i am, in the middle of the two
who knows
i think it's odd?
that's how i feel, and now you know
classes, glasses, lessons and life
the torture of school, it's strain and it's gripe
even in a room where it's okay to rhyme
i can't help but feel out of place all the time
 
i'm late
a year late
everything is late
i hate to be late,
now i'm late forever.
i try to do my best,
but i can't turn back time
classes, glasses, lessons and life
the torture of school, it's strain and it's gripe
even in a room where it's okay to rhyme
i can't help but feel out of place all the time
 
my confidence is gone
is there intellect at all?
why not, in the opinion of all who watched me fall
its like i'm empty in there,
like an acorn, but with hair
minus the acorn,
added a body
classes, glasses, lessons and life
the torture of school, it's strain and it's gripe
even in a room where it's okay to rhyme
i can't help but feel out of place all the time
 
i just want to paint
to write;
to draw;
to sing;
to live in a world
that runs on hearts instead of brains
if this place isn't real,
then it will be one day
and if i have to do it myself,
i will
and do it my way
 
classes, glasses, lessons and life
the torture of school, it's strain and it's gripe
even in a room where it's okay to rhyme
i can't help but feel out of place all the time
 
not everyone is like me
and really, that's fine
like many others, i don't like me most of the time
i wish i could pass school,
that people thought i was "cool"
but i'm too old for these juvenile dreams

the time is up, it's time to go
it's time to grow
i'm 20 years old, old enough to know
 
classes, glasses, lessons and life
the torture of school, it's strain and it's gripe
even in a room where it's okay to rhyme
i can't help but feel out of place all the time
 
and that's fine.
 
 
 
 

Friday, January 11, 2013

Poem - Dear, Charlie

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send me golden dollars
     to hold in my hands
          so i can feel the embossing of her face.
 
give me your hand
     and put it in mine
          because i'm too young to cross alone in your eyes.

let me read old comics
     in your daughters old room
          so i can feel the past through your thoughts.
 
come to my wedding
     and sit there, front row and center
          whether or not you're alive.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

"like" my facebook page!

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made myself a nifty cover photo :)
click the picture!

Poem - Coconut Soda (Christmas in Bed)

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Coconut soda,
absent for years
a gift that nearly brought me to tears
i want to say, "if only she knew"
but this is mi hermana,
an out-of-the-norm, too
 
it couldn't be more thoughtful,
so unexpected, so dear
although reluctant, i still held her near
 
i couldn't tell what it was,
at a glance, maybe booze,
but at only 15, that possibility was shrew
 
i thought it was cream soda, maybe the beer of root,
but the only root here, was my heart.
 
ah,  n  o  s  t  a  l  g  i  a
 
my childhood love
my all-time favorite soda,
from an unexpected one.
 
we may not always get along,
but you know, times like these
remind me that we're still family
and tells me there's still a love
 
we say we hate each other,
but its a lie.
and it's obvious, too
still no one in my life is as thoughtful as you
 
it was special, it was sweet,
it was important and meaningful to me
and i hope you realize my excitement,
because my happiness is hard to find
and you found it in glass, with carbon inside.
 
i don't remember Puerto Rico,
but i feel as if i do,
i can love it, treasure it, taste it
and i wish i always could
 
it may seem minuscule,
but the littlest of things....
they're always best.
 
one single bottle,
green, shining glass
tastes like The Island,
and good times, alas
 
I'll thank you forever
and I'll never forget
coconut soda
on Christmas,
in bed.

Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Acrostic - Mooki

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My baby, my sleep
Of peace
Of sweet
Kisses, for me?
I remember the beginning

My pain, my heart
Of breaks
Of parts
Kisses, for me?
I remember the beginning

My love, my soul
Of beauty
Of whole
Kneeling, for me?
I remember the beginning

Monday, January 7, 2013

Outfit of the day (ft. red boots!)

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shirt: Rude
undershirt: Fallas Paredes
Jeans: wetseal [graffiti by Nick]
legwarmers: generic
boots: off-brand